The young blond-haired server approached their table carrying an intricate clay pot and several teacups. She poured them each a cup.
“So this is buckwheat tea?” Calypso asked.
“Yes. That’s what sobacha is. It’s nutty and rich. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
The woman walked away without further interest.
“I like the stuff,” Bard said. “Feels like samurai soup.”
He guzzled from the cup, burned his mouth, and spit some of it back in.
“Interesting…” Calypso replied slowly, sipping from her own cup.
“So you were going to tell me about finding that bone bat thing?”
At the question, Bard regained his composure.
He responded with one of his own.
“I guess first I should preface the story by saying I do independent investigative research into paranormal activity, primarily around northern New Mexico.”
Calypso nodded.
“For whatever reason, strange has followed me most of my life. The last few days, things have really been amping up.”
“Okay… I can relate to the last few days. And most of my life as well.”
Bard let out a soft sigh.
“I was camping out around Jemez the last few nights. I like taking late walks in the wilderness. That’s when strange things sometimes come out.”
He paused.
“And the lights in the sky matter.”
Bard sipped his tea more elegantly this time.
Calypso sat quietly, a low anxiety beginning to crawl through her.
This was starting to get a little too coincidental.
A few plates of sashimi arrived. Each of them ate a piece.
Bard swallowed.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“So last night, I was trying to find a new area to camp off a forest road near Route 4. Sure enough, I fell through some kind of deadfall while I was walking through the woods and ended up in, for lack of a better word, a subterranean dungeon that led to a cavern.”
Calypso’s eyes widened.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I shit you not. And if falling through a hole in the ground wasn’t enough, I fell through some kind of trapdoor after that. Had to find my way through this tunnel underground, where, sure enough, I found this little trinket.”
Bard took off the bat necklace and set it on the table between them.
Calypso’s eyes settled on it.
She concentrated for a moment.
“So did your research lead you to any more information about this thing? Did you find anything in the dungeon? Signs of what culture was there? Religious practices? Anything specific?”
“Honestly, I was walking through the dark. Pretty much crawling through it. It felt like an eternity, so I have no idea how long I was actually down there. It was the middle of the night when I went in, and eventually I found my way into this massive cavern complex with a little forest ecosystem inside it. There were openings in the top of the mountain where sunlight was getting through.”
He described more of the dungeon’s architecture and the cavern complex. The differently shaped stones. The streams. The swarm of bats. The burial sites along the cliffs. His eventual climb and escape through the ceiling.
They sat quietly for a while, eating sushi.
Calypso was visibly processing everything she had just heard.
“So do you work around here?” Bard asked.
“Not anymore.”
“Oh?”
“I just quit my job at that library where we met.”
“Didn’t care for it?”
“It wasn’t a good fit for me any longer, no.”
More food arrived.
A large black stone sat sizzling on a wooden board, surrounded by small cuts of beef.
They began cooking the meat against the hot rock and talked for a while about the ancient feeling of such a simple way of cooking.
Eventually, Calypso brought the conversation back to the cave.
“Those burials on the cliffs sound similar to Karajía in Peru, by the way.”
“Shit. How do you know that?”
“I also have an interest in weird shit.”
She paused.
“It seems to have an interest in me sometimes too.”
Bard thought for a moment.
“You know, I actually lived in Peru for a while and forgot what that was called. I remember it being a thing. Something I probably need to research. I’ve been slipping on that stuff. Thanks for the name. That’ll help.”
They kept things lighter for the rest of the meal, mostly talking about interests outside the heaviness of their initial conversation.
Music.
Hiking.
Fishing.
Driving cross-country.
Calypso told him she was from Salem, Massachusetts.
Bard told her he was from Mystic, Connecticut.
Eventually, they paid and made their way outside.
They stood beside the waterfall near the entrance for a moment before wandering past the gardens to a small bench.
He looked at it for a moment.
“The sound of the ocean isn’t the ocean.”
Calypso looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged and said he wanted a cigarette.
Calypso asked if she could share it.
They stood there smoking together.
After a while, she decided to tell him a little about the night before last.
The lights.
The cat.
Mostly the strange blue lights.
“Given that you’re a paranormal investigator, I thought that would be right up your alley.”
“Yeah. That actually sounds like a vacation.”
Calypso looked at him.
“I know that probably sounds weird.”
“A little.”
“Okay…”
She hesitated.
“Does the name Alex Fernandez mean anything to you?”